


waiting for you

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dirty Talk, Fantasizing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It shouldn't be any more than a crush, but it is, and every night is just like this one, fantasizing about his professor.  For as long as he's been there, Linhardt can only think of wanting and wanting andneedingto the point where he'd take anything Byleth could give to him.
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	waiting for you

**Author's Note:**

> i finally got the time to write for this fandom (or any fandom at all) and instead of a coherent story i made pwp

_"A-ah..."_

_His moan bounces off and through his room walls_ _, loud enough for the neighbors- his classmates -to hear crystal clear. They probably despise him for that, but it doesn't matter. Why should it? The only one he cares about now is Byleth. His professor. There's no time for these petty problems, not when the person he's wanted for so long, finally, finally, finally-_

Linhardt shoots up from his bed, kicking covers to the floor with strength that he didn't even know was possible. _What was_ _that,_ he asks himself, and then ignores his own question in favor of _I really just dreamt about_ him _again, didn't I._ It takes all there is to restrain against a loud, drawn out, disappointed Linhardt-style sigh. (It wasn't real. It could've been real.) Instead, he dangles his arm to reach for the fallen sheets, tugging them up halfheartedly. It comes up slow, like raising a well rope. 

Even with the blankets it's cold. With the sweat dripping down his forehead, neck, it's still so, so _cold._ He wants Byleth. Wants to be held, have sweet nothings and dirty praise whispered in his ear as circles are rubbed against his thighs, his waist, lulled to warm sleep by his professor's embrace- but all he got was another dream of pretty things that'll never happen and shivers running through his numbed body.

He didn't use to have these dreams, these desires. No, no, before, it was all alright, but then Byleth came along, and with that Linhardt's unkempt facades cracked into two. He didn't know how to go about it, really, but this new teacher was _kind_. There was something about him that lingered beyond the blank stare- the way his lips would curve up ever-so-slightly sometimes, the worried but caring quality behind his voice when Linhardt needed consolation. He'd gone out of his way to return a pillow once, and even invited him to tea. (Linhardt didn't even like tea, but it would've been ridiculous to decline.)

It developed rapidly, yet slowly. Trying a little harder at training blossomed into waiting for his hands on his body to fix his movements, until Linhardt began to crave the touch, the hidden intimacy of it all. And he still does, probably will for a long time.

  
  
These thoughts. He can't wait anymore, and tugs down his underwear, freeing his leaking erection. Linhardt swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, imagining Byleth hovering above him. He's tall and strong, shoulders broad, muscles toned and defined. He imagines that body, his weight on him- or maybe, no, having his calloused hands stroking his cock, play with the tip or fondle his balls.

" _Mh..._ hah..." he breathes out. "I n-need-"

He imagines Byleth moving down to get his lips wrapped around the head, licking wet stripes down the length. Still silent as ever, the only indication of his need are the blown-out pupils that accent his eyes, a lust-filled deep blue. "Ah!" he gasps, bucking into the warm heat that is his mouth. "I can't-" he begins- it's not enough -but Byleth pops off his dick with a wet sound, eliciting a whine.

"Take off your shirt." Byleth says, in that tone he uses to command him on the field. How could Linhardt not acquiesce? 

After his clothing is discarded and thrown somewhere on the ground (it's okay, he'll clean up sometime), Byleth kneels with thighs on either side of him, hands tweaking, twisting, pulling his nipples. He imagines it to hurt, but it's nothing like the pain he tries to avoid in battle, it's so good- so good, Linhardt wants more of it, more of everything, until he's reduced to a begging mess, broken from screaming his professor's name, 'till he's so used and filthy for Byleth, Byleth, _Byleth._ Then- _then_ \- he would be rewarded. "Good boy," Byleth would murmur ever-so-quietly under his breath. "You're so good."

"Y-yes- want- want your cock-" it's almost disgusting, how ruined he sounds just from nothing (just from stroking himself a little bit, the half of his brain that is still rooted in reality reminds him), but he doesn't care, he doesn't. Byleth's silence is like a cue for him to keep going- "I-" he bites back a moan, "I- n-need, please, please- I'll be good for you, anything, just want more-"  
  
"So greedy." is the only thing he gets in response, but it's enough to send sparks of pleasure coursing through his body anyway. Tears form at the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill out with any other filthy combination of words he receives. "On your hands and knees." He orders after shuffling off of him. Linhardt is, as always, quick to obey. "Good." 

(Linhardt fumbles for the bottle buried in his nightstand drawer, impatiently slicking up his fingers in lube before flopping onto his stomach.) Byleth reaches for the bottle of lube on Linhardt's nightstand with what Linhardt thinks might be judgement written on his face (he doesn't know, but he's seen it before and he likes it). "Tell me you want this." 

"I want it, I want it so bad," Linhardt gasps. "Byleth..." 

He expects to feel Byleth's cock, the reassurance of his touch, but instead comes a swift slap to his ass, causing him to jerk forwards with a broken surprised moan. "What was that?"

"Ah, Professor, please-" Linhardt lets out a wrecked sob, raising his ass higher. He can feel tears roll off his cheeks onto the pillow that he drops his face in, muffling all the embarrassing noises he makes. "Professor, Professor-"  
  
He can _feel_ Byleth's slight, taunting smile as he reaches out to trace the rim of his hole. "That's right." He praises, and takes his hardening dick to line up with Linhardt's hole, already begging to be abused and filled. "Mm... so tight, Linhardt." He pushes in halfway, fingertips tracing circles against the skin where he'd spanked him. 

Linhardt sobs into the pillow, gripping his sheets so tight he's sure a little more will make them tear. It's not enough, not enough, he needs more, but he also wants Byleth to tease him like this, stare down at him, call him a good boy... "Professor, please," Linhardt whimpers, not even sure what he's pleading for, just something from Byleth, anything. Instinctively, he clenches around Byleth's cock and gets a groan in reply.

"P-professor," He whispers, choking on his own gasp. He slides back in an attempt to take more into his greedy hole, but Byleth's hold on his hips is firm, keeping him in place. He knows it's no use, but he fights against his grip anyway, until it tightens and his professor's fingernails are digging into his skin, intent on leaving bruises on his pale skin. It's humiliating, and he loves it. "You're so desperate," Byleth _hisses_ , and Linhardt cries out, entire body shaking with exertion. "You want it that bad, don't you?"

"Yes!" Maybe if he begs, Byleth will give him what he wants- "I want it, I want _you,_ Professor..." (His poor classmates who are trying to sleep right now probably hate him, but he's too far gone into his fantasy to even care about repercussions.) Byleth makes a little noise- contented? exasperated? -he doesn't know -before pushing all the way in until his balls push against Linhardt's ass, which he gives another quick but hard slap.

"So big- you're so big, Professor, I-I want more," He doesn't know what he's going on about at this point, but he can't stop, not when Byleth is looking at him like that, so expectant and aroused for _him,_ somehow. "Fuck me. Please." 

There's a pause, the fall of a dreadful but somehow wanting pit in his stomach giving way to the idea that maybe Byleth is going to push him even further to the edge, but instead, he pulls until only the tip is left inside and thrusts all the way back in, ramming against his prostate. Linhardt cries out from how good it feels, Byleth's thick cock filling him up, stretching him out. "Again, Professor, please-"

"Slut," Byleth pants, continuing to thrust, to pound him into the sheets. "S-such a good little slut for me."

_"Please!"_ He _screams_ , sobbing incoherently into the sheets when Byleth punctuates his words by hitting that spot just right. He keeps going, until Linhardt is sure he can't take it anymore: "Please, I'm close, please let me come, Byle- Professor, ah!" 

Byleth stays silent and Linhardt makes a questioning sound- (is he going to make me wait again?), resting his cheek on the pillow to peer up at him best as he can. Contrary to the demanding, stoic demeanor he often puts up outside of the bedroom, his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, hunger swimming in his eyes. "Yeah? You want to come?" He taunts, pressing further up against his ass. 

"P-plea-" He begins, but is cut off by Byleth thrusting into him again. "Mmh- hah -Professor-"

"You're so loud. What if your classmates hear you, see you like this?"

"Doesn't matter, just want you, please, I wanna come-" he babbles, letting out needy whines. 

"Gonna come untouched for me?" A slap to his ass that has him jolting forward with a high moan. 

"Yes, yes, yes," he whimpers, feeling his dick leak pre-cum that dribbles down his shaft, dripping all over the sheets. 

"Mm. Go on then. Good boy." 

Linhardt comes hard, sobbing brokenly into his pillow, twisting the sheets in his grasp. A few more thrusts, and Byleth is releasing inside him with a low noise that goes straight to his cock, stuffing him full of his hot cum. 

Opening his eyes and collapsing on his bed- _his come_ , he thinks belatedly- spent and exhausted, Linhardt realizes that it's even more freezing than it was before, and struggles to bring the heavy blankets over himself. Curling up into a ball, he tugs a roll of the covers closer and pretends it's Byleth holding him close, pretends it's him carding fingers though his hair, pretends the cold that dances within his walls could be chased away so easily. 

**Author's Note:**

> ahh so that's that, i hope you enjoyed  
> comments and kudos and super super appreciated!
> 
> (also. pt 2 coming soon? 👀)


End file.
